Diving Off The Deep End After You
by latest-blooming-sakura-blossom
Summary: This is the Sequel to lie to me. After Castiel leaves him Dean's fighting with denial & strange images that only he can see. Is he loosing his mind? Probable. Will he ever admit it? Unlikely. Trouble arises when Bobby and Sam notice the strange behavior?
1. Who Lying Now?

Dean sighed contently as his mind woke up from a pleasant dream. "Hey Cas we need to.." He stopped mid sentence as his outstretched arm came down onto empty bed. His eyes shot open and realization slipped like a snake into his brain. He forced a smile onto his lips. Castiel would be back. He could never really leave Dean alone this way. The angel needed Dean as much as the hunter felt need for the comforting presence of his guardian. It had been three days his return to heaven, Dean gave it a week before he came home. Cas would always find a way back to him.

A warm shower and six pancakes later Dean found his head spinning and his legs buckling from underneath of him. Flashes of images passed behind his eyes lids. Ruin like symbols, blood, a building. A strange building he had never seen before. He tried to really look at it but the image disappeared before he could focus. His head felt as if it was splitting in two and he could feel something warm seeping from his eyes. He assumed the pain was making his eyes water, but when the warm liquid dripped down on the floor in front of his face it was not water he was looking at. Blood was seeping from every open pore on his face. Scared Dean reached into his jacket pocket to, thankfully, find his cell was still in the pocket. His pushed speed dial one and Sam's name appeared on screen. Dean pressed send and waited while the phone rang into his blood filled ear.

"Hello?" Sam sounded sleepy. He most have still been sleeping when Dean called. It was probably early. "Sammy. I need your help." Dean could almost sense the sudden alertness in Sam's voice. "What's wrong?" Dean swallowed the lump that had found it's way into his throat. "I'm alone Sam. And I think something's wrong." Sam didn't answer for a minute. "Where's Castiel?" Dean hadn't wanted to talk about this yet., why say he was gone when Cas would be back soon? "He had to leave for a while." The was no way Castiel was gone forever, Dean was sure of that. "Well he picked a great freakin time. I'll be there in a few hours, just lay down and rest until I get there." "Alright Sammy." Dean heard an engine rev up and then the phone went dead. Everything would be alright now, Sam was on his way home and Dean wouldn't be alone anymore.

He managed to find enough strength left in his body to make his way to the couch. He lay silently, mind still swirling in and out of focus. He felt like he was in pain, but it was dulled slightly. Like he'd been stabbed but it was half healed. He kept getting flashes of the strange building and other things. Heat, like the room was suddenly hotter. He felt almost sticky with humidity and fear and panic were floating at the edges of his mind, almost like they shouldn't be there. Dean was confused. He didn't feel scared, he had nothing to be afraid of, but it was there. The emotion was all too real and it made Dean feel the need to escape. His wrist felt raw, like he was tied by the, and his shoulders were stiff as if he'd been hanging for hours.

Dean struggled to understand the feelings that couldn't have been his own. Could they? Nothing had happened to him, he felt fine besides his splitting headache. But he didn't feel fine. He felt like he was dying. But he wasn't, he wasn't feeling any of it. But he was. But he shouldn't be. Nothing was happening to him. But it had to be. Something had to be hurting him. His eyes wheeled around the room almost to fast for him to even register what he was looking at. He was alone. No he wasn't. Someone. . . . He couldn't see a face. Only a shape. No one was with him. Yes someone was. There couldn't be anyone, he was alone. Oh god he was hurting him again. He felt a blow to his back. But he was lying on his back, nothing hit him. But oh god, the pain was real. Then it suddenly wasn't real, it subsided to a dull ache. Almost like it had to go through something else to get to him.

Sam entered the room while Dean was panicking. "Sammy, make him leave me alone!" Dean was screaming. Sam could make it go away. Dean paused. Nothing was there. But it had to be. He looked harder. The damned thing must be hiding. If only he could get up long enough to find him. "Who Dean?" Dean's eyes fell back on Sam. That's right Sam was here. He could help. "I don't know. I can't see him. A shape. But it's not there. It hurts, but it can't hurt. Nothing happened Sam. I don't know what happened because nothing happened. Blood. There was blood. A building, symbols, blood. A man. The building was a house maybe. Death Sam. Lots of death, but not here. I don't know where. It's a lie. Something's a lie, I don't know what though. Betrayed, someone betrayed me. There's pain too. And a lot of fear. I want to get away. Rope, there's rope or maybe a chain. Dark, wet, hot."

Dean stopped, mind whirling and hazy. Everything he said was making sense to him. It was complete nonsense and he knew that, but it made sense. It all went together, he just had to find out how. Sam's face was twisted in a strange mask that Dean didn't want to see. He closed his eyes tight. "Dean, we need to get you cleaned up. Then we're going to see Bobby. I don't know what's going on, but I'll help you." Dean just nodded so Sam would stop. His head was pounding and Sam's voice was a knife driving further and further into his skull. He needed him to stop talking for a little while.

Dean couldn't register anything around him anymore. The strange flashes and weird feeling had stopped but they were replaced by a calming, deep darkness. Dean found it a comfort. He relaxed and let his mind go blank. He wasn't sure when Sam got him in the car, but the next thing he paid any mind to was getting out of the car, a lot of time must have passed. Cold, it was cold all around him. Snow maybe, he wasn't sure. Then he heard a voice. Bobby. It had to be Bobby. Then the warmth. Inside. A couch. Just sitting. Talking, about him most likely. Nothing flowed in his mind. Certain things stuck out, one or two words at a time. He felt almost like he was in a trance. Calm and not needing to think. He liked it a lot. Hadn't he already thought that? Oh well. He was warm. Tired, he hadn't noticed before but he was very tired. He didn't say a word, he just slid down onto his side and rested his head on the arm of the couch. He thought he felt eyes on him, but only barely. His eyes slipped closed and the sleep came almost instantly.

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"See what I mean Bobby? I don't understand what's going on." Bobby stared at the elder Winchester for a long moment before he spoke. "Maybe there's something we don't know. Right now we can't do anything but try to get him to talk to us. We've gotta know what going on if we're gonna help him." Sam nodded, his eyes still fixed on his brother. He had no idea what was happening to him, but it was terrifying. He had never in his life seen Dean behave that way. He had been so scared, so panicked, almost crazed. It would be okay though. He knew Bobby wouldn't stop until Dean was himself again, and neither would he.


	2. I Said What?

Dean woke up in a bed. Strange, he didn't remember falling asleep in a bed. Wait, where was he? He sat up straight in alarm and scanned his surroundings. It was the guest bedroom at Bobby's. When had he gotten to Bobby's? Why were they here? Was something wrong? Dean groaned. He was barely awake and already he was giving himself a headache. He decided he would get up and go find Sam, wherever jumbo the giant was. Dean chuckled to himself. Jumbo the giant, what a fitting name for Sam.

Ambling down the stairs into Bobby's living room was harder than he thought it should be. Had he been drinking the night before? His head sure felt like he had. The room had a slight lean to it. He'd definitely been drinking. Hearing voices as he was about to turn the corner into the living room Dean stopped to see what they were saying.

"Something is seriously wrong. He spouting nonsense, screaming to make a man stop hurting him. We were alone Bobby. Nothing was wrong with him. Aside from the blood leaking out his eyes and ears." He heard a muffled thud, something being lain on a table. "All I'm saying is that we shouldn't jump to conclusions. We don't want to scare him Sam, that wont help at all." Dean had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about him. He cleared his throat and entered the room quickly, not wanting to hear any further.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Bobby's voice was unregretful. He had no shame in what he's said before. "I'm fine Bobby. What the hell is all this talk about? And what the hell happened yesterday? I can't remember a damned thing." Sam and Bobby gave each other shocked looks. "Well you called Sam and told him you thought something was wrong. He gets there and your bleeding out the eyes and muttered some nonsense about things that weren't there." Dean scowled. "HaHa very funny. What really happened?" Sam cleared his throat. "That's what happened Dean. You scared the shit outta me."

Okay, what? He didn't remember any of what they were saying. What the hell had he told them yesterday? What had been wrong with him? "You did say something that made sense. When we were on the phone anyway." Oh no, Dean didn't like that tone of voice. "What's I say?" "You said Castiel was gone for a while. Dean where the hell did he go?" Oh no, not this. Why say anything about it. Cas was coming home soon. Dean knew it. "He had to go upside for a while. Paper or something I think. I don't know when he'll be back." What was the point in not lying? They'd just tell him Cas was never coming home. Ha, they didn't know anything.

"Well he needs to hurry up and come back. We sure could use his help right about now. We need to know what's wrong with you." Dean frowned at Sam's word choice. "Nothing is fucking wrong with me Sam. I'm fucking fine." Sam cringed. "I didn't mean it like that Dean. Look, obviously something happened yesterday. We need to figure out what it was so it doesn't happen again." Sam voice was calm and slow, he was thinking carefully about every word before he said it. Asshole. "Sam's right. Dean what exactly do you remember?" What did he remember? Dean sat on the couch and thought hard.

"I remember waking up." Slowly it was coming. Fuzzy and unfocused, everything was blurry. "I showered and ate. Then, I was walking out of the kitchen, there was this pain. It felt like an axe in my head, being hit a truck, and a knife being twisted in my brain all at once. After that I remember hitting the floor, and. . ." Ouch. He hit something, almost like a wall in his head. "Then nothing. It's blank after that." Bobby sighed. "That doesn't do us much good. We could play out a hundred scenarios with that information. We need more." Dean sighed and thought harder. It hurt. There was nothing he could remember. He could feel it though, the memories he needed. They were just out of his reach, and still completely black to him.

"It's no use, I got nothing." Damn it. What the hell had happened? "Dean just keep thinking. I'm going to pour myself some coffee. Want some?" Dean put a hand on his head in concentration. "Sure, thanks Sam." The shower, breakfast, the floor, then. . . . .black. Empty. Why the fuck was it empty? He slammed his fist on Bobby's table. This was so fucking frustrating. "Here." The hot cup felt good in his hands. He was cold. That's strange. Why was he so cold. Sipping the coffee to warm himself Dean struggled with his blocked memories. Something was definitely up with him, and it was aggravating.

Dean wrapped his coat around himself. Damn it was cold. "Bobby, you got the heater on?" Bobby nodded. "Dean, what's wrong?" There was that fucking voice again. "Nothing Sammy, just a little cold is all." Boom. Boom. Boom. His head was pounding. "I think I'm gonna go lay down though. My head's killing me." "Yeah, okay Dean." When did his back get so stiff? It was like having a board tied to his back. The bed was a welcome relief. The springs helped to uncoil his knotted back muscles. A strange feeling floated through his body. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was though.

Fifteen minutes of concentration later all Dean had accomplished was giving himself an even bigger headache. The feeling was still there, and it still alluded him as best it could. Trying to grab on to it was making him tired, but not in the way that would allow sleep. His stomach rumbled and Dean realized he hadn't eaten in nearly twenty four hours. Damn, what the hell was he thinking?

Bobby is looking at him like he's a bomb about to go off when he enters the kitchen. "I'm hungry." He explained on compulsion. Bobby nodded and exited the kitchen quietly, trying to avoid Dean for some unfathomable reason. What did they think? Where they expecting him to snap and try to kill them or something? He'd done nothing wrong. What had he said to Sam that they weren't telling him?


	3. Where Am I?

The sun rose, the beams waking Dean from his slumber. He opened his eyes and panicked, everything was black. Why couldn't he see? What was wrong with him? Oh god, oh god. Where was he? How did he get here? The only thing he remembered was seeing and feeling impossible things in his living room floor. Suddenly light attacked his eyes. He was more frightened by what he saw than he had been with his lack of sight.

He was inside of a broken down building, hanging from chains. It had been chains, not ropes. The smell of blood was suddenly apparent to him. The light was dim, but it still hurt his eyes. He felt like he had wounds all over. Ouch. Pain flooded his body. Help. Help. Help. Help. He wanted help. His face felt hot, the room was really warm. He guessed it would only get hotter. His jacket was now a vise. Tighter and tighter. It was choking him. Oh god. He was so hot.

He struggled to free himself only to find that his body would not respond to the command. He didn't move at all. Suddenly a vision of a bedroom flashed in his mind. Why was he seeing that? He saw Sam and Bobby trying to wake him. What the hell? Was that a memory? What had happened to him. "Ahhhh." A scream ripped from his throat as pain shot through his torso. It was not his voice he heard though. The thought flew from his mind as another unseen blow struck him.

Where was it coming from? Warm blood poured down his chest. Flashes of the strange symbols flashed before him again. He saw the same shape of the man. It was more defined now, but still the face was hidden in shadow. Then it all began to swirl around him, disappearing and reappearing in short intervals. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he tried to block out the pain. Suddenly s strange voice was speaking inside of his mind. It was beautiful and melodic thought the language was foreign to Dean. It sounded ancient and powerful. The voice was weak and hoarse and it seemed to be pleading with him.

"Who are you?" He screamed. The words were silent and he didn't feel his lips move. In his mind he heard the voice pause. A searing pain split his skull then and the voice disappeared leaving only a sense of panic and longing. Oh god. Oh god. Help please. The pain was spreading through his stomach and into his legs. A detached flicker of hope ran through him. Dean. Dean could help. That made no sense, he was Dean. But Dean would come. He would save him. He could not die here.

Tired. He was tired again. He had been hanging for what felt like ages. Damn his arms were sore. He still could not move his body though, and he could not use his voice. The man came into the room every few hours and said things to him. Things in that foreign language. His words did not sound strong and beautiful though, they were evil and menacing. The voice in his head returned a few times and it seemed to be trying to soothe him now. Hanging. How long had he been hanging now? Where was Dean? Oh that's right, he was Dean. Wasn't he? He couldn't remember anymore. He wanted sleep.

The man was back. Dean tried to cringe. Nothing. He couldn't move at all yet. How long could this last? When would he get his body back? He felt his head fall to the side. Black tinted the edges of his vision. Fear fluttered through him. The strange voice spoke through his lips again. "Dean will make you pay for this." The man laughed. "Dean can do nothing for you now." The cruel laughter continued and Dean felt warm tears snake their way down his face. They were tears of pain. A new wound appeared across his chest. It crossed over at least six other slashes. "You are paying for it now. Aren't you?" Dean groaned. Images assaulted him again. He felt like someone was shaking him. He heard Sam calling his name. His surroundings began to fade and Dean fought hard to stay conscious.

"Dean wake up!" Dean struggled. He wasn't really hearing it. He couldn't be. Damn it, he wasn't hearing it. It wasn't there. Pain was fading in and out. Symbols flashed, a bedroom, Sam's face, the strange man. Confusion, fear, pain, longing, drowsiness, alertness. It was all mixing together in a thick and hazy fog. Every faded to black for a minute and Dean closed his eyes. When he opened him everything around him had changed.

He was staring at Sam and Bobby, their faces were identical masks of concern. "Dean are you okay?" So he was Dean after all. Was he supposed to save himself then? Suddenly Dean was angry with them for just being hallucinations. "You're not real! Why haven't you found me yet? Why haven't you saved me?" Sam recoiled from him a little. "What are you talking about Dean?" He grew angrier. "I'm chained up, being tortured, and hearing a voice speaking a weird ass language in my head. Why are you letting me stay there?" Bobby grabbed his shoulders when Dean tried to stand.

"It was a dream Dean. You're here, with use now. This is not a dream." The voice whispered into Dean's head again. It seemed to be urging him to do something. He wished he could understand it. "I hear it! It's trying to tell me something." He felt like an axe slammed into his head. Screams ripped from his throat. "Make it stop damn it! Do something. I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to hear it. Stop! Stop! Go away please!" He thrashed about, knocking over a vase. Deep red gashing leaked blood down his arm. His flailing also caught Sam and he heard the crunch of bone as his knuckles broke with the pressure of the force he smashed against Sam's shoulder. Dean grabbed his head and hit the floor. He willed himself unconscious but the darkness never came.

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Sam sighed. Something was seriously wrong with his brother, something he and Bobby probably couldn't fix. Sam had figured out Castiel wasn't coming back, that was apparent by the way Dean avoided talking about it. Was Dean's stress making him see and hear things that weren't there? Was is making him crazy? Sam didn't want to think of his brother that way, it seemed like betrayal, but it was seemingly the only conclusion. He fought with himself, deciding whether or not he should bring his theory to Bobby's attention. Sam was confused. He had no idea what to do and he was upset because his brother was hurting. Things had been so good the last six months, why were the falling apart so violently now?


	4. You're Taking Me Where?

Dean opened his eyes to find two worried face spearing over him. His arm's and knuckles blazed like hot lava was running down his arms. "Sammy what happened?" Sam's eyes were weary, almost like he was afraid of Dean. "Yesterday we couldn't wake you up. We'd been trying for hours when you finally woke up. Dean you were screaming about how we weren't real. The you yelled for a voice in your head to shut up, started freaking the fuck out, broke a vase and cut your arm, then you hit my shoulder while you were trying to twist your way free of us."

Dean stared, eyes wide. Fear trickled down through his spine slowly. What was****happening to him? He still couldn't remember anything. Well he remembered waking up at Bobby's and not remembering anything about the day before. Wow, sounded familiar. "I. . . I don't remember." Dean didn't want to admit. Didn't want to see the look that passed through Sam's eyes when he did. "I think we need to get you some help Dean." Dean frowned. "Well no shit Sherlock, did ya figure that out all on your own?" Sam didn't get angry like Dean expected, his face stayed sympathetic. "Dean I'm sorry to have to say this, I really truly am, but I think you need psychiatric help."

"Wait, what? Like a shrink or something?" Sam shook his head. "No Dean, like a hospital that can find out what's wrong with you." Dean felt anger bubble through his veins. "I act a little strange for a few days so you decide to commit me? Don't feel like dealing with it, so ya lock me up? That how it is?" Sam was quiet for a long time. "You hurting yourself Dean, and anyone who gets in the way." Dean was shocked. No, shocked wasn't the right word. Dean felt betrayed. His own brother thought he was stark raving mad. Hurt washed through Dean and the anger faded away. "I'm not crazy Sammy. Come on, how can you think that about me?" Sam's eyes fell to the floor. "Dean I don't think you're crazy." Bobby interjected then. "We just think something's wrong. Something we can't fix." Dean felt his eyes widen. Bobby thought he was going insane too.

No, no. Anything but this. He couldn't take it. First Castiel left and now everyone else he cared about was telling him he'd lost his mind? Dean didn't think he could handle it. For a minute he thought he might actually loose his mind. It was too much. His arms burned, shoulder to finger tips, and his whole body felt like it was spinning. His head was hurting, it hadn't seemed to have stopped since it started three days ago. Dean placed a hand on his head. Too much, this was all too much.

"Dean, calm down." Sam's voice was full of all the fear, pain, and loss he was feeling. Loss. He thought he was losing his older brother. "I am calm." Dean's voice sounded anything but calm, even he could hear that. "Damn it boy, don't be like that. We don't want to have to do this, but we aren't going to sit around and watch you loose it either." There it was. What they really thought. He was relieved Bobby had finally said it. The didn't think he could be fixed, they just didn't want to see him fall apart.

"Well sorry I'm not excited by the prospect." Sam sighed. "Dean, please. We wont admit you, okay? We'll just talk to a doctor. See if maybe he thinks some medication would help." Dean's chest burned. "Yeah, doping me up's so much better." Bobby slammed a heavy hand down on the table and Dean flinched away from it. "This is not an open discussion. You don't have a say in the matter. You need help, you're going to get it." He stood. "We're leaving here in fifteen minutes. Be ready or you'll go half dressed." The tone of voice told Dean that Bobby wasn't screwing around with him, and that hurt. They were going to dope him up. Well he wouldn't sit by and let it happen. He wasn't taking any pills damn it. There was nothing wrong. A small part of his mind wondered if maybe they were right. The larger part said that was a crazy thing to think. If something was really that wrong Cas would've come back at least long enough to fix it with him. Dean smiled. He was one hundred percent sure that he wasn't crazy.

The drive to the 'crazy house', as Dean liked to call it, took a lot longer than he would have liked. It gave him more time to look at Sam and Bobby both, and realize more and more that they wouldn't look back at him. Something was terribly wrong, Dean could feel it in his bones. They pulled into the parking lot and Bobby turned around to face Dean. "I'm sorry for this." And then the back door opened and two big men grabbed Dean's arms. The held him tight in their grip.

Anger, fear, hurt, betrayal. They burned through him worse than any fire. "You lied to me! How the hell can you do this to me Sammy? I'm your brother." Sam's eyes held a sadness deep within their core. "That's why I have to Dean." He looked away then, but Dean didn't. Dean didn't miss the single stray tear that slid down his brothers check. Guilt washed through him. Sammy was hurting too, he hated to do this to Dean. He thought it was for the best. Dean went limp in his captors arms. Maybe this was for the best, for now. This would prove to Sam that he wasn't crazy. Then he could go back to being the big brother he'd always been, not the load of baggage he'd suddenly become.

They put him in a small room. Everything was bolted to the floor, there was nothing he could hurt himself with. A woman sat a small tray of food beside his bed. No utensils. "The doctor will meet with you tomorrow." Dean nodded and lay his head back on the bed. Now that he thought about, what good was being here going to do him? He couldn't tell the truth, then they'd really think he lost it. He'd just have to tell half truths. Leave a few things out. That couldn't hurt too much could it? Nah, it was his only option at this point anyway. The only thing he needed to do was talk to the doc tomorrow and prove he was fine. Then he'd go home and they'd figure out what kind of creature was fucking with him. Yeah, that's what they could do. Then everything would go back to the way it was. Maybe he could even get Cas home somehow. Cas being home sounded like reward enough to deal with this shit for a little while. He'd get out, and get Cas. Things were looking better already.


	5. Nothing I Can Say Will Make You Go Away

Dean woke up scared. Where was he? The walls were to white here, too clean. The room seemed devoid of light. Another delusion. The pain must be making him hallucinate again. He faintly remembered yelling at 'Sam and Bobby' the last time he was hallucinating. What would this time be like? A man entered his room, an all to fake smile plastered on his time worn face. "Time to see the doctor Mr. Winchester." Dean recoiled from him, shrinking into the bed. He wasn't going anywhere without a fight, hallucinating or not.

As the man made his way towards him Dean jumped to his feet and readied himself to fight. Shaking his head the man exited the room only to reentered with three other, much bigger, men flanking him. Dean lost it then. "I'm imagining you! Go away. Just leave me alone." A flash a red flashed before his eyes. Blood. Crippling pain followed and he hit the floor, agonizing screams ripped their way from his throat. The men stared at him, eyes wide. Another flash, this time of the building. It came with more details this time. Surroundings. A tree. Familiar. He'd seen it before. Where? Where? Where? He fought against the pain, willing his mind to work coherently. "There nothing wrong with him to make him scream like that." The biggest man of the group called to the others. Dean paid him no mind. The tree. The tree.

He was vaguely aware that he was being carried. Vaguely aware of the stared he was receiving and of the discomfort in his arms and legs. But only vaguely. What he was most aware of was the burning in his back. He could feel the skin pulling apart and the blood seeping out. It was agonizing. One of the men noticed the blood and alerted the others. They checked his back and sure enough a huge, jagged wound was present. "How'd he manage to do that?" "I don't know but we need to get him to the infirmary."

And just like that they were gone. He was hanging again. The smell of blood was acrid in his nostrils. His eyes burned from the sheer heat of the room around him. He sighed in relief. At least he wasn't hallucinating anymore. The sweet voice whispered in his mind again, the language was still foreign. It seemed to be pleading again, begging for help that he could not deliver. The man entered the room then, this time it was daylight so the features of his face were visible to him. Dean's mouth dropped open in shock though he did not feel his body move with the response in his mind.

It was an angel. He was sure of that. The grace and beauty with which he moved gave it away instantly. Dean shuddered. An angel had been doing this to him. What the hell was going on? He smiled, face holding none of the angelic radiance it should. Instead his features were cruel and twisted. "How are you today brother?" His mind went blank. Brother? Wait, wasn't he Dean? He thought he was Dean. He felt like Dean. But this man was calling him brother. Did that mean he was an angel? Why did he think he was Dean Winchester then? What had they done to him?

The voice that answered back was not his own. The familiarity of it sent spasms of pain through his whole body. "I am as I have always been. And do not call me brother." Dean shuddered. What could possible be going on. Maybe he was really going crazy. He was hearing a voice in his head, did that qualify as crazy? The man before him smiled. "Still praying for your savior to come?" The body that didn't quite feel like his anymore stiffened. "I no longer _pray_ for anything. But I know he will come."

His mind began to spin and Dean felt the room whirl. His eye sight faltered for a moment and when it cleared up again he was trapped in another hallucination. Or perhaps, the same hallucination. Maybe he was crazy.

"Dean, I need you to talk to me." A man, maybe a doctor, was saying to him. He opened his mouth to respond but another spasm of pain racked his body and he convulsed on the table. Nurses began to strap him down. The doctored sighed and above the roaring of the pain in his ears Dean managed to hear him mutter something about him being in more severe condition than was thought. Anger flooded through him. Real or not no damn doctor was going to stand there and talk about him like he wasn't there, like he was crazy.

He felt a needle pierce his skin. Funny with all the pain he could still somehow feel that one tiny little prick. A wave of calm flooded through him and silenced his growing panic. How was this happening? It was all fake, it couldn't really effect him, could it? His eyes rolled back into his head and darkness consumed his mind.

He flittered between sweet nothingness and painful reality for a long time. He wasn't sure when he became fully aware of what was around him, but the sweet voice was whisper to him when he did. The language was beginning to take a familiar edge. Like he had heard it before. It wasn't changing, it was more like he was remember something he hadn't before. Strange. It seemed like the longer he thought, and the more headaches he gave himself, the more he remembered. Thinking of that he fought against the searing pain and black walls that filled him mind.

He was alone for what felt like days, in reality it was hours. The body he was seeing through still didn't feel entirely like his own and Dean was questioning why. The pain was real enough when the angel before him sliced through his skin, but why couldn't he move? What was the strange voice he heard come from his lips, but could no longer remember what it sounded like? The body seemed to have a mind of it's own, and maybe it did. But how could that be? Was he really even here?


	6. Appollogy Sorry Guys

Hey guys I have no idea why my stories keep changing half way through. I can't figure out how to fix it, it just keeps happening. So if you could bare with me and ignore it I'd appreciate it. I really can't think of how to fix it. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story and I promise to update soon. 3

Much love, You all deserve it,

Latest-blooming


	7. Ha! I'm Not Crazy

The doctors told him he was crazy. Words like schizophrenic were tossed around at him. He didn't know what to think. They said he was hurting himself. The gash on his back seemed proof enough but he didn't remember. It was frustrating to say the least.

There is no way he was crazy. He just wouldn't admit it. Something was wrong. Something was going wrong and he needed to figure out what. He couldn't do that in here though. He needed a computer, hell he'd even settle for a library at this point. The stress was driving him crazy.

He tried to tell them. He swore he wasn't crazy. He knew they'd heard it all before but he had to try. They let him call Sam once he'd been there for what they said was a week. It had seemed to be only three days to him.

"Dean." Sam's voice was refrained, almost scared. "Hey Sammy." A sigh ghosted through the line. "How are you?" Dean grunted. "They think I'm a crazy man. Tell me I'm schizophrenic." Sam sucked a deep breath in. "Sammy nothings wrong, not mentally. I think it's. . ." he hushed his voice so no one else could hear, "supernatural."

Sam was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice too was quiet. "Why do you think that?" Dean felt like he was gonna break down any minute and beg Sam to come and get him out of this place so he figured he'd make it quick.

"I can't remember what I'm seeing Sammy, but I can feel like it's important. I feel like someone needs our help. Something bad is gonna happen if we don't figure this out soon Sam. I keep trying to remember, but it always slips away. I only feel like it's been three days Sam. The other four days I've been here just don't exist."

Sam was quiet for a long moment. "Okay. Me and Bobby will double the research on out side. We'll find out what it is. But Dean you need to stay there so you don't hurt yourself like you did the other day. I'm afraid next time it might get worse."

As much as Dean wanted, no **needed**, to be out of there he valued Sam's sanity more. He didn't bring up the fact that he was still waking up here with gaping wounds, though he was sure doctor quack would tell Sam soon anyway. Dean just agreed with Sam and hung up the phone, feeling to tired to try and make any more conversation.

The walk back to the room (he refused to think of it as his) was quiet and uninterrupted. As long as he was quiet maybe no one would say anything to him. Of course that would be too fucking easy though, wouldn't it? One of the big built men from the first day came up to him and stopped him in the hall. "The doc wants to talk to you."

Dean grumbled but followed him down the hall. He wanted to get out of here, and acting up sure wasn't going to help him do that. Suddenly a soft voice spoke into his mind. It was barely more than a whisper. At first Dean couldn't make out what it was saying, the language was not English. But it spoke louder after a second of pause.

"_Faveo mihi Dean"_ Instant recognition filtered through his body. He knew the voice as soon as it spoke, though he'd never heard it before. It was Castiel's true voice. Castiel was speaking to him. "Ego postulo vos." Help me Dean. I need you. Castiel needed his help. That didn't make any sense. Castiel was in heaven.

Dean finally registered that he was standing in front of the doctor. "What do you need?" Dean's voice was harsh. He needed time to think. Needed to call Sam back. The doctor smiled. "I need to assign you medication." Oh hell no. Dean was not taking pills.

"Uh, I forgot to tell my brother something. Can I call him back before you dope me up on crazy meds?" The doctor shook his head. "You know the rules Dean. No exceptions." Dean felt his sudden hope begin to falter. If they doped him on pills for the next week would Cas be able to talk to him? He sure hoped so.

Dean wasn't crazy. So what the hell would pills to suppress crazy thoughts do to a sane person? The answer was simple. Make them feel crazy. Dean laid in bed, his head spinning. He felt like everything was racing by, but his thoughts moved slower than they ever had.

Castiel did not speak to him. Dean called and called, inside his head of course, but not once did the voice answer him. Dean fought his heavy eye lids and forced himself to think. Castiel was who needed help. Dean had to fight next time. He had to remember everything he saw. They had to find Cas.

For the first time in almost two weeks Dean let himself think of Cas. His soft, full lips whispering Dean's name late at night after a nightmare. His bright, wide, innocent, blue eyes alive with curiosity whenever Dean showed him something new. His arms wrapping around Dean's waist from behind in the shower. The way his hair stuck up in the morning.

Dean smiled at his last memory. He missed everything from his life before. He missed his angel so much. The prospect of having him back soon had Dean's arms tingling with desire. He needed so badly in that second to be holding onto Cas.

Anger flooded through him. Cas was in danger. He was probably in pain, alone, and scared. It was going to be a fucking week before he could do anything about it. God damn it. There had to be something he could do.

Dean lay in bed, motionless. A plan was finding it's way into his brain. There was a telephone in the infirmary. Ha. It was going to be too simple. It was night now, too late to go on with his plan now. HE sighed. He needed to do this as soon as possible. The instincts to rush and get it over with warred with his knowledge that he only had one chance to get this right.

As he lay, alone in the dark a strange feeling began to come over him. The room was chilly but he was feeling steadily warmer. His head started to ache a little around the edges, and the room started to spin. It spun slowly at first but picked up momentum the longer he lay there.

Fear trickled it's way down his spine, the taste of blood filled his mouth. He felt unseen wounds all over his body. The tightness of chains around his arms became noticeable to Dean. He tried to move, to get off the bed, but he was no longer in control of his body.

Dean was vaguely aware of his real surrounding but he was more aware of the heat and pain. A flash passed through his mind. A face. Zachariah. Red. All he could see was red. All he could feel was searing, burning pain. Another face, this time his own. With this image a trickle of hope rose inside of him.

A voice, so soft it was almost unheard, whispered into Dean's mind. _Tantum vos es validus ut servo mihi iam._ Only you are able to save me now. The voice. Castiel! He was seeing what Castiel saw. Feeling what the angel felt.

Hatred bubbled deep in the pit of Dean's stomach. Zachariah was going to pay for this. Dean didn't know how to kill an angel, but he sure as hell was going to find out. He tried to reach out to Cas, tried to make the linked minds a two-way thing. _Cas, I'm coming. Just hold on._ He didn't know if Castiel heard him, but he hoped that he had.

Dean was silent then. Watching as Zachariah did horrible things to Castiel. Listening to Castiel cry out to the heavens for justice. Feeling every blow that was directed at his angel. Rage grew deep inside of him. It twisted into his soul and became a part of him. There was no god. He was sure of that now. And if there was a god Dean would never have faith in him. He was a greedy, power obsessed, asshole. Just as bad as a demon.

Castiel stopped responding to Zachariah's taunts after a while. A sickening snap resounded after one of the many blows. Castiel's body went limp and Dean felt himself being thrown back into reality. No. No. No. No. What the hell had happened?

Dean jumped to his feet. Surprised that it was morning already. Something bad had just happened to Cas. Something horrible. Oh god no. Dean angled his arm the right way and launched himself into the wall. A dull popping met his ears as the shoulder left it's socket. Nothing too bad.

He yelled. Fifteen minutes of screaming before anyone came. Finally a woman came to his door and peered through his window. "Yes?" Dean grimaced for effect. "I fell off my bed and I think I dislocated my shoulder." Her face became alarmed. "Okay hold on just one minute dear. Todd will take you to the infirmary."

Todd was big, three times the size of Dean. He walked Dean to the infirmary and shut the door. He heard a lock click. That was fine with him. He guessed he had five minutes till the nurse showed up so he set to work immediately. The phone was in a lock box. Easy. Dean picked up a paper clip and had the box open in thirty seconds.

"Hello?" Sam's voice was filled with sleep. "Sam I don't have much time. I snuck this phone call. I'm not loony. Its Cas. Zachariah has him. Sam it's bad. Real bad. You need to come and get me now. I'll explain more when you do." A pause on the other end. "Alright." And the phone went dead.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Bobby, drop the book. Dean knows what it is." Sam had the car keys in hand and was almost to the door. "Alright, what'd he say?" They were both opening car doors now. "He says Cas is in trouble." Bobby clicked his tongue and whistled. "Well that makes sense." Sam was quiet. "Don't be like that. You only put him there to keep him from killing himself." "I know Bobby but still. He thinks we betrayed him. I know he does." Bobby shook his head. "I'm sure he'll let you slide." The rest of the ride was quiet.


	8. We Need A Plan

They wouldn't arrive until it was nighttime. He knew they couldn't get him until then, it would be too hard in the day, but still the waiting killed him. He was thinking. Dean wasn't wasting any of his time. He was doing his best to remember what Cas had showed him.

It seemed that Castiel was helping him. The voice whispered to him quite a few time in Latin, though it sounded weak and very broken. He remember the strange tree beside the old house. He did his best to place it, but he couldn't remember ever seeing it before.

Pushing harder against the invisible wall in his mind. He felt it give way inches at a time, new images becoming known to him. It hurt. His head was on fire and felt as if it would explode any second. He was vaguely aware that the sun had set outside but his main focus was on the wall.

The door to his room opening is what drew him out of his trance. Sam and Bobby were standing before him, their faces strained. "Hey Dean." Sam was nervous. Dean forced a small grin. "Hey Sammy." Bobby clapped Sam on the back.

"Told ya he wouldn't hate your guts Sam. Now let's get moving." Dean stood. They walked out of the room, the halls were empty. "How'd you manage do this so easy?" Sam pulled out a badge. "We're inspecting reported abuse in the hospital."

A nurse stopped them at the door. "You can't take our patient." Bobby sighed. "He shows signs of horrible abuse. You better feel lucky we're just taking him. Don't worry though, you'll hear from us again." The girl swallowed hard, but stepped out of their way.

Dean sat in the back of his baby, a pencil and paper pad in his hand. He drew the tree in great detail. Never had he possessed the talent of art before. The picture came out as an exact copy of what was in his mind. As he was riding in the car.

He stared at his work for a moment, shocked by the quality. After a few moments he passed it up to Bobby. "Cas is in that house. The tree seems familiar, but I can't place it." Silence filled the car. "I know where this is boy. And getting in there is going to be one hell of a fight."

Dean swallowed hard and Bobby continued. "That right there is an old church. Sacred ground, and we're unwelcome guest. An angel is controlling what that ground keeps away and I bet you're the first name on it's list."

Dean cringed. How in god's name were they going to get around that? Silence filled the car. Finally Sam spoke. "Dean you said it was bad. How bad?" Dean sighed heavily. "Cas is hurt real bad. I could feel it happen. One second he had pulled me into his mind, showing me what he saw, and the next I hear this real loud snapping and tearing sound and I'm thrown back to reality."

Bobby and Sam were quiet. "Not only that he hasn't talked to me much. And when he does it's real soft and weak. Like he doesn't have much strength left." Still no one spoke. "He talks to you?" Dean felt like they were still a little weary of him.

"Not like the voice you guys hear. It's different, but definitely him. I think it's his true voice. And he always talks to me in Latin. Sometimes it takes a while for me to be able to understand what he's saying." Sam sucked in a deep breath.

"What Sam?" Dean was worried. Sam looked like he'd just been punched in the gut. "He's really weak if that's all he can manage Dean. I hate to worry you but he's probably pretty close to death." Dean's whole body went cold.

Cas could be dying right now. And they were in a car moving at a dull human pace. Zachariah could move so much faster. And to top it off they didn't even know how they were going to get to Cas. Dean felt vomit rise in his throat and he leaned his whole upper body out of the car.

He felt the car come to a stop, his head still protruding from the open window. "What are we doing here?" Dean was angry now. They had stopped at a cheap motel about an hour from the hospital. "We need a plan Dean." Sam's voice was level, no emotion came through.

Dean however could not keep his emotions in check. "You said yourself Cas could be dying!" His voice twisted painfully around the last word. Sam face softened a little. "Dean, we don't even know how we're getting onto the church grounds. We wont do him any good until we have a better plan."

Dean was fuming. He was pacing outside the room, his face red with rage. Cas was in major trouble and they expected him to just sit around and _**plan**_? They weren't going to be much help to him. He had to find a way to get there. And quick.

He was so caught up in his planning that he didn't notice the soft ruffling of wings directly behind him. What he did notice was the hand grab his shoulder so hard it hurt. His whole body stiffened for a fight. "We need to move quickly."

The voice surprised him. "Anna?" He turned to face her. Her lips were tight and she looked uncomfortable. "But Cas turned you in. How'd you get away? Why are you helping us?" Her face grew angry for a second but she composed it quickly.

"How I escaped is not important. As for Castiel I know what they did to him up there. I don't blame him for what he did. Heaven can be very. . .persuasive." Dean was quiet for a second. What had they done to Cas up there? He'd never pressured Castiel on the matter just as the angel never pressed about hell.

"So how are we going to get to him?" Dean was all business now. Anna smiled. "I am also an angel. By creation I am higher than Zachariah. The sacred land will not know of my defection. All it will sense is a more powerful angel." Dean smiled.

"And for the matter of Zachariah's punishment. . ." Dean cut her off. "I want to kill the bastard." Anna smiled. "The only thing that can kill and angel is another angel." Dean grew angry. "So there's no way I can kill him?"

Anna laughed a little. "Let me finish. Only another angel because our weapons are made of our own grace." Dean grimaced. "Think hard Dean. You have a piece of Castiel's grace. He gave it to you a few months ago." Confusion swept through him.

Finally, after wasting almost three minutes trying to think of what it was. "The damned necklace he gave me? That was his _grace?"_ Anna smiled. "Yes Dean. There was a reason he made the necklace in the shape of a small dagger."

Cas had known something like this might happen. He'd given Dean a weapon against the angels. Thanks Cas. "Do you have the necklace on you?" Dean reached into his shirt and lifted the light silver chain. "I though it was kinda girlie but it upset Cas when he saw I wasn't wearing in."

Anna grabbed his arm hard again. "Good. Now let's go." The flutter of wings sounded around him and he felt feather tips brush against his back. As soon as it all started, it suddenly stopped. Dean looked around quickly, trying to get his bearings.

The old building and the strange tree were before him now. His gut clenched tightly. Cas was only a few steps away from him. His body began to ache. It wasn't a sore ache, it was a longing. He pushed it down. Now was the time to fight. He gripped the necklace in his fist tightly. It was Zachariah's turn to suffer.


	9. The World Could End

Dean made his way towards the church. His mind reeling and his stomach an ever tighter knot in his gut. He heard Anna speak from a few steps behind him. "I've shielded us, Zachariah won't know we're here until he sees us." Dean smiled. The smile was sadistic, his eyes held all intent of inflicting pain. He knew it would have to be a quick kill, but that didn't stop the fantasies flashing in his mind.

He creaked the door open slightly, it made no noise. Someone was talking inside and red hot rage flashed like a whip as he heard the words Zachariah was speaking. ". . .and no one is coming for you. No one cares. Don't you think if any did they'd have gotten hear already. I mean it's been over a week Castiel." The sound of something hitting flesh followed by a whimper.

Dean forgot all about the need to stay unseen. He charged through the building, brining his fist to the back of the angels head. Dean didn't let himself look at Castiel, his eyes stayed locked on his foe. If he looked, he would not look away. That was death for the both.

Zachariah was quick to get back on his feet. "How did you get here?" His voice was full of disbelief, but not fear. Dean knew that Zachariah didn't fear him. Oh but he should. No answer came from his lips, only an animalistic growl.

Anna stepped from behind a shadow then. "Oh I see. Heaven's little rogue escaped after all." Anna smiled now, her face a terrifying mask of power and security. "No Zachariah, I was set free." Dean almost whipped his head around to stare at her in shock, but he managed to keep his focus on the very dangerous angel before him.

"Lies." Zachariah spat. A ripple of power went through the room causing the hairs on Dean's arms to stand on end. "Michael knows now. He finally saw through your evil plans. He set me free and sent me here today." That was it, the battle began then.

Dean lunged for Zachariah only to feel himself thrown effortlessly into a wall. Blood trickled down the back of his neck but he was on his feet again in record time. "Insolent monkey." Dean grinned at him despite the fact that he wanted to moan in pain. "You betchya."

Anna was helping. Dena could see the difficulty she was having trying not to kill him. It would be so much easier to let her but he wanted to be the one to end it. He wanted to feel the life run out of Zachariah around his hands. Wanted to be the one to watch his eyes turn cold and feel his muscles go limp.

The fight was growing more deadly for him as he grew more tired. It had been ten minutes now, and the fight was still raging on. Zachariah landed a blow directly on Dean's shoulder. A snapping sound resounded around the room. Dean hit the ground hard. His shoulder was fucked up. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with it, but damn it hurt. He struggled to get back on his feet. A blow to his back sent him falling to the ground once again.

The air whooshed from his lungs and his eyes threatened to roll back into his head. He heard Anna and Zachariah fighting now though and he knew if Anna thought him incapable, she would finish it herself. So Dean once again forced himself back up on his feet.

The two angels fighting was a spectacular scene. They were so strong, so fast, and so in their movements that Dean was suddenly envious. Anna managed to land a punch and the male angel flew straight trough the opposing wall and out into the night.

Anna turned to Dean. "We need to end this quickly Dean." The room around him looked a little fuzzy. Maybe the head wound was worse than he'd thought. "I know. But I can never get close enough to him to use it." Then they were no longer alone.

Zachariah looked angry. No he looked beyond angry. Dean guessed the angel was almost as angry as he was. A moan sound from behind him. Pain that had nothing to do with his should shot through Dean. Cas needed help. He was in some major pain and maybe closer to death than life.

The urge to turn and make sure Castiel was still breathing was overwhelming. Zachariah smiled at him. "You know, even if you somehow manage to get him out of here I doubt he'll survive. And if he did I hope he blames you for all of this for the rest of your life. Because really, it's all your fault."

Dean growled, low and guttural. "You corrupted him. You cursed him with the baggage of emotions, something he should never have had to worry about. And worst of all, you made him love you. If he had never stayed with you none of this would have happened."

Dean felt sick to his stomach. "What do you mean?" Another grin flashed across Zachariah's face. "He was ordered home directly after the war Dean. But of course he couldn't leave you. You'd have been crushed. After a few months the threats started. Not on him of course. No we threatened you.

"And as much as Castiel didn't care what we did to him, he cared about what happened to you. So he came to me to go home. Too bad all his waiting made my superiors angry. Now he gets torture, then death." Dean launched himself at Zachariah, catching him off guard. "You won't kill him. And his torture ends now, no matter whose fault it is."

The next thing Dean knew, he was hitting the wall again. Damn it, he'd had the perfect chance to end it. He'd let his anger blind him to the opportunity. He surprised he could think coherently like he was with the pain lashing over his body like it was.

The next thing that happened would forever be imprinted into his mind. A cruel laughter filled the air, the whizzing of a dagger flying, the crunch of breaking bone, and the load scream that filled the air afterwards.

Dean looked at Anna. "Finish it!" He screamed as he ran towards Castiel. He couldn't feel any pain now. His body was completely numb as he ran faster than he ever had. He reached Castiel just as he reopened his eyes.

"Dean." His voice was quiet but happy and full of adoration. "Yeah it's me. It's all gonna be okay now. I've got ya." With a knife he's drawn from his pocket Dean picked the lock of the chains holding up his angel. His body was limp as Dean held it carefully in his arms.

"Dean I'm so . . .happy you're here." The words were forced out. He seemed to be in too much pain to talk. "I'm happy to see you too. But don't worry about talking. There will be plenty of time for that later. Castiel nodded. Dean hadn't wanted to Castiel to notice. Apparently he was so injured just where the dagger had struck him hadn't crossed his mind. Blood was pouring from his body, something that any other time would have alerted Dean that something was different, from the knife embedded deep with the angels chest.

Dean felt the world fade to grey around him. They only thing that help any color was red. The red of blood and the red of his world dying in his arms.


	10. Not So Angelic Assistance

Dean was frantic. As soon as Castiel's eyes closed his calm façade vanished. He heard Anna approaching him for behind. "I can't help him, that is not my gift." Dean's heart sunk even further into his chest. "Don't worry. We'll get him back to Sam and Bobby. They can watch you guys until I get someone who can help him."

No comfort came with the words. He was too lost in his world of fear. The blood wasn't flowing as quickly, but still too fast. The flutter of wings was barely able to reach his ears. Dean felt the room spin and suddenly Sam and Bobby were staring, their faces drawn tight across the bone.

"What happened?" Dean cleared his throat. "Zachariah stabbed him. I didn't think he would do something like that. It never crossed my mind." Anna was already gone, to intent on her mission to save Castiel to stay and chat.

"Well why the hell didn't Anna fix him before she took off?" Sam's voice was full of accusation. "She can't. she went to go and get someone who can." Bobby was dead silent for a long moment. "Wait a minute Dean, why is Castiel even bleeding at all? Shouldn't he have healed?"

That was when it broke through in Dean's mind. Castiel shouldn't be bleeding. He shouldn't be dying. The knife Zachariah had used was a normal, human made knife. Dean cradled Castiel's head in his lap as his mind reeled.

Blue eyes opened to met frantic green ones. "Dean." Dean brushed his hand against the side of Castiel's face. Sam and Bobby had stopped the bleeding now, but still Castiel seemed weaker than before. "Dean, I . . I need to tell you something." Dean just nodded, not trusting his voice.

"I fell." The words rang hollow in Dean's ears. Castiel was human. That was the problem. He had suffered, as a _human_ for almost a week and a half. Dean's empty stomach churned. "They made me human." His voice was barely louder than a whisper and Dean found himself leaning closer to hear.

"They took Jimmy out of his body. The made it empty and gave it to me." Dean cringed at the disgust in Castiel's voice. Castiel pause to cough and breath in a shaky breath. "But now I don't have to leave you. I get. . .to stay."

Castiel's eyes slipped closed and Dean began to panic. He glanced to Bobby. "He's alright. Just lost a lot of blood. Anna better hurry though, he aint got long." Dean nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

It seemed like an eternity before Anna showed back up. Castiel was paler than white, it hard to tell that he was even breathing. "He looks bad." Dean stared at her, his mouth hung open in shock at her words. "He was stabbed in the heart! And he's barely alive! You better have brought some damn help!"

Anna sighed. "Of course I brought help. His name is Gregory." As soon as the words passed her lips a man with black hair entered the room and kneeled beside Castiel's body. "Dang, he's pretty banged up." He went to place a hand on Castiel but stopped when he saw the look on Dean's face.

"I need to help him. I'm no angel but you need to trust me. Without my help he'll die." Dean nodded, letting the strange place his hands on Cas. A few words slipped out of his lips, too low for Dean to hear. "I need you to back away." "No." Dean's voice was firm but still the stranger pressed.

"This will keep his heart pumping, but if you stay too close it will stop yours." A girl's voice met Dean's ears. "I'd move. He's serious." Dean slid away from Castiel, it killed him to do it. These strangers could help, and he needed to cooperate.

"Are you sure you can handle this Gregory? I mean it's been days since you. ." The girl cut off her sentence, but her eyes said that there was more to what she was saying. Her eyes seemed familiar and Dean knew why. They held worry. Worry for the man that was leaning over Cas. Worry that mirrored his own almost exactly.

"Gregory. . ." Her voice was a plea, she was begging him. "I can do this. I need to be able to concentrate or something will go wrong." She was silent then, her lips pinched shut. "How can he help Cas?" Dean questioned her. She motioned him away from the men on the floor and he obliged.

"Gregory is special. Really special." It was obvious in the way she spoke that she cared deeply for the man. "He's taking a curse and using it to save people." Dean was shocked. He was cursed? "How does a curse help us?" She smiled, but it was a sad smile.

"He's immortal. He'll never age, never die." She seemed to choke up a bit, but seemed to regain control after a moment. "But it gives him advantages. He can speed up healing, kind of like convincing the body to move faster. Or in your friends case, to stay alive."

"It'll still take a few days, maybe a week or two, for him to heal completely. But given the alternative, that isn't so bad." Dean nodded. "So he's really gonna be okay." She smiled now. "Yup. He'll be fine." Dean grinned, feeling the first burst of hope since he'd found Castiel. "That's great."

After a few minutes of silence Gregory rose to face Dean. The girl beside him smiled and ran to the man, wrapping her arms around him. "Okay, okay. It's all alright Christen." He smiled at her and Dean felt like he was invading a private moment.

Gregory pulled the girl from him and made his way to Dean. "He should wake up in a few hours. It's safe to move him to a more comfortable location." Dean nodded. "Thanks man." Gregory was silent. "Sorry, he really doesn't know how to interact with people. Do you have a room we could stay in for the night? I'm sure he's tired even though he'll never say it."

Bobby came up then. "Upstairs, second door on your left." She smiled and mutter thanks before the two of them disappeared upstairs. "Why didn't you get an angel?" Sam seemed to be a little angry with Anna. "They were all busy. You guys are lucky that Gregory owes me or he wouldn't have came."

"What's wrong Sammy?" Sam looked really pissed off. "That guy was cursed Dean." Dean waited, expected there to be more and being a little surprised that there wasn't. "Okay, I knew that." Sam seemed at a loss for words for a minute. "A cursed man just healed Castiel. Doesn't that worry you?"

Dean was quiet for a moment. "No Sam, it doesn't. Cas is healed. That's all that matters to me. I could care less who the guy is. He's leaving tomorrow anyway." Sam just sighed and sat down on the couch. "Whatever." Anna placed her hand on Castiel. I'll take him to your bedroom." And then they were both gone. "I'm a little tired too."

And just like that, it was all over. Castiel was safe and home, and nothing else seemed like it could go wrong. Dean was happy and smiling more than he had in weeks. Things were looking brighter. He lay down beside Castiel and let himself relax. His wounds made themselves known now that he was calm.

A noise woke Dean from his slumber and he was quick to get on his feet. He made his way down the stairs and Came face to face with something that made his stomach clench tight. Gregory was holding Christen's wrist to his mouth, his teeth sunk into her flesh.

The girls face was contorted in pain but she did nothing to defend herself. Dean launched himself at the pair, intent on murdering the man he had early been indebted to. The girl's screams stopped him short. "No! Stop, don't hurt him!" Her wrist was free and Gregory was in front of her, protection written all over his face.

Dean stopped and she seemed embarrassed, like a child caught doing something wrong. "Gregory please go upstairs." He turned to face her now. "I wont leave you down here. We don't know him. He could hurt you." Dean snorted. "You mean like you just were?" Gregory growled.

"Hey. Stop it. Go upstairs. I'll be fine. I've got some explaining to do." Gregory picked up her wrist and touched the wound. Before Dean's eyes it disappeared and only a thin line remained. "Okay. Yell if you need me." And just like that he was gone.

Christen brought her eyes up to meet Dean. "I guess there's a story you have to hear." Dean was silent. "It's a long story, but at the end you'll see why Gregory isn't a monster." "But he was drinking your blood!" She just smiled. "I let him. It's part of the curse. Better to be a little from me than from a stranger. Now be quiet and listen."


	11. The Story of Your Life, Wow What A Freak

"So what's your name anyway?" Dean wondered why that matter. "Dean" "Well Dean we were just children when we met." He stopped her before she could even really start. "I thought he didn't age?" She huffed. "Let me finish before you ask questions." Dean just nodded. "Maybe we should go and sit down, this will take awhile." Dean followed, determined not to speak. With all he'd seen he knew he couldn't judge her.

"Okay well we were children. I was seven years old and I met him at a park." She smiled fondly. "He was all alone on the playground. No one wanted to play with the 'witch boy'. He was the only nine year old I'd ever seen wearing all black and a studded dog collar, he's always dressed a little on the goth side though. I think it's cute."

Dean had noticed early in the evening, the guy dressed a little weird, and he didn't think it was cute at all. If anything it hid the guys natural good looks from most people, apparently not this girl though. "He was adorable with his black hair stuck out in every direction. I couldn't resist talking to him. He was hesitant, he didn't know how to make friends. But once we got past all that, he was the most sincere person I'd ever met."

"We were friends from that day on, playing together ever day until we hit our teens. He was the best friend a girl could ask for. He's my perfect match." Her small smile faded away when she started to speak again. "When I was barely fifteen my dad started abusing me. It wasn't pretty. He was angry, mad that my mom had left him and hadn't taken me with her." Dean was silent. Why was she telling him this? "Gregory found out. He wanted to kill my dad, but he settled for running away with me."

"We left and never looked back, moved down south, found a small house in Texas. He'll do almost anything I ask him and I begged to go where it was sunny all year round. He kept me safe, working two jobs to support us both and keeping me away from people who would try to take me back to me dad. It wasn't until almost a year later we found out my dad had never even called the cops. He told everyone I moved in with my grandma or something along those lines."

"So what does this have to do with him sucking your blood in our kitchen?" She sighed. "I'm getting to it. Be patient." Dean fell silent once again, his face judgmental. "You have to understand! You have to see that Gregory isn't a monster!" Dean just stared at her. "He'd never kill anyone! He has to have blood to survive. What he did to your friend today, it takes a lot out of him!" She paused, regaining her calm from before.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself. We were in Mexico, doing a little vacationing, I begged him to take me." She frowned. "It was there it happened. I walked to the store by myself while he was out. He told me not too, he didn't want anything to happen. I was so stupid." She stopped and Dean could see regret stamped so heavy on her face it almost hid the beauty of her features.

A sigh passes through her lips. "He was only human then. He should have known better. There was a bunch of them. Ten maybe fifteen. They grabbed me and were holding me down when out of no where Gregory starts ripping them away."

A pause. "Okay that doesn't seem so bad." More silence. "There were so many, Gregory was strong but he couldn't deal with so many and some of them had knives. They stabbed and cut him. Two men held me and made me watch."

Her teary eyes were distant, far away in Mexico seeing everything as it had been that night. "They left him, bloody and dying. I remember holding his head in my lap." The tears fell now. "I'm sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't get into the details like this. I got lost in the story. Just give me a minute."

Her pause was a long one as she slowly calmed her tears and connected her eyes with Dean's once again. "I'll skip the mushy goodbye speech he gave me." Dean could tell that was a private memory, one neither of them would never speak about with anyone. "I sat there, holding his unconscious and dying body in my arms. I couldn't get help. I was too weak to carry him and we'd never had the money for cell phones."

Dean allowed himself a moment to think. If bringing Sam back as a monster had been his only option would he have done it? Of course he would have. That's the nature of love, you do anything to keep the ones you love even if it hurts them.

"An old man came then. He told me he could help. He told me he could save him. Gregory was all I had. He was the most important thing in my life and I couldn't live without. I had planned to kill myself later that night. But now I had hop and I couldn't just let him die." She looked at Dean, shame in her eyes. "I understand completely." His voice was a bit strange to even his own ears. She nodded. "Well I told him to do it, whatever it was."

She swallowed. "He woke up like he is now. Of course he never blamed me, said he would have done the same. I kind of believe him too." Dean just nodded. "I've made a decision like that before. I've never regretted it." She blinked in surprise. "And before, when I said he couldn't die, that's not exactly true. We found out after a few weeks when he started to grow very weak. He got to where he couldn't get out of bed."

She grimaced. "We found out what he needed on accident. I sliced my finger and he kissed it like he always would when I got hurt." The face Dean was making cause her to blush a little. "And he started to drink my blood. That first time he almost killed me. He was so angry with himself for weeks, it was nearly impossible to snap him out of it." She pause again, cutting out pieces of the story.

"Well after that we searched for a way to make him normal again. Since then though I've aged to be his equal. I'm worried. We're both only 23 now, but what about as I grow older?" Dean sighed. "Yeah, I've had to think like that before too."

Her face was covered in question so he continued. "I am in love, or was, with an angel. He's human now though." She smiled. "I'm glad that worked out for you. Was that the man Gregory saved earlier?" Dean nodded. "So you wouldn't happen to have forgiven him, would you? I mean he didn't do anything wrong." Her voice was the same plea she'd used earlier in her worry for the strange black haired man.

Dean was silent for a minute. "Yeah sure. Just don't tell Sam or Bobby. Leave that up to me." She smiled a wide smile. "Oh thank you!" Gregory entered the living room then, his face pinched in annoyance. "I was waiting but you took so long I came to get you." She smiled. "I'm fine. I'll be up in just a few minutes. Let me say goodnight to Dean." Gregory smiled then, Dean could see how it affected her. "Okay, I'll be waiting." She turned back to Dean. "He was worried, don't let him fool you." Her smile then said it all, and putting everything she'd told him in the story it made even more sense. "You're in love with him."

"What? N. . .no I'm not." She stuttered, sealing what Dean could already tell was true. "Why don't you tell him? I know he feels the same for you." She blushed. "We're all each others got, it's not like that with us." Dean grinned at her. "Sure it's not."

"I'm heading up to bed before Gregory come back down. You should go upstairs, I bet your friend will be waking up soon." Dean stood. "You're right." They walked silently up the stairs and before she turned away from him Dean grabbed her wrist.

"Look I don't know exactly what happened to your friend but I've been there before. I've been lost and had no one to help me. So if you want some help from people who know what they're doing just stick around a little longer than tomorrow." She smiled wide at him. "Thanks Dean." He nodded.

He felt like he could relate with her. When he'd made his deal and Sam had come back he hadn't thought anything bad would happen to Sam. But when Dean went to hell, things changed. Sammy spent more time with Ruby. She talked him into practicing with his powers and drinking demon blood. Now Sam was a strung out junky trying hard to resist his quick fix.

Dean sighed as he entered his bedroom. He understood her and it made him want to help. Dean had opened the door silently but still Castiel's open eyes found his with ease. A smile spread wide on both of their faces.

Dean made his way over to Castiel, still smiling when he reached out to take his hand. Castiel looked Dean deeply in the eyes, both rememorizing the others face. It was a little strange to see Cas's eyes devoid of the sparkling light of his grace, but Dean could get used to it. "I've missed you." Dean sunk onto the mattress beside his fallen angel. "I've missed you too Cas. It's been a long couple of weeks without you."


	12. I Thought it was Over

Dean watched as Castiel's face soften into a mask he'd seen so many times over the last few months. "I had faith you would save me." Dean grinned. "According to you your faith was lost a while back." Castiel smiled. "I no longer have faith in heaven. I'll always have faith in you."

Dean's heart stuttered a little at his words. He'd never get used to Cas's dying faith in him nor would he get used to the former angels belief that Dean was the greatest human to ever walk the earth. The way Castiel viewed him was godlike in a way and it was scary. Dean was always afraid he'd disappoint him but if he had Castiel had never shown any signs.

"I had a little help with the healing you part." Castiel grabbed Dean's hand in his. "I could tell. Who was that man who was leaning over me earlier?" Dean sighed. "A new friend I think." Castiel cocked his head to the side. "What I mean is his travel partner is a girl named Christen and I think she plans on sticking around, and I'm pretty sure he's not going to leave her."

Castiel smiled. "The bonds humans forge never cease to amaze and mystify me." The smaller man snuggled closer to Dean, his whole body was shaking violently. "Whoo, you a little cold there Cas?" Dean chuckled when Castiel's only response was to pull Dean even closer to himself, which was quiet an accomplishment given their already close proximity.

"Well at least we're done with them for good now." Castiel nodded. "As much as I hate to say it I am relieved to no longer have to worry." A knock at the door made them both jump. "Yeah?" Dean's voice was on the verge of being rude until he saw who it was at their door.

Sam entered the room timidly and Dean and Castiel separated quickly. They weren't big on affection in front of others. "I just came to check on Castiel." Dean smiled. "Well he's fine now Sammy. A little sore for the next few days but that's great considering."

"Yeah. Well it's getting pretty late. You too should get some rest." Dean chuckled. "Yes mom." Sam shot him a glare. "Oh bite me asshole." They both chuckled together and Castiel grinned at the brothers. Dean was glad to have everything back to normal. Well as normal as things could be for them.

Sam left the room then, but Dean and Castiel had no time to react. For as soon as Sam was gone a light flashed a new man was standing before them. Dean heard Castiel suck in a breath. "Michael." Dean grimaced. He was done with all of these angels.

"Hello Castiel." Dean felt anger bubble up inside of him. How dare he speak to Castiel like he hadn't allowed him to be tortured for days. "You son of a. . ." Castiel cut him off. "No Dean. Michael was unaware of it. I'm sure Zachariah feared what Michael would do to him."

"Ah but it seems Anna took care of my job before I could get to it. However it is not over." Dean felt his eyes grow wide and the bed shifted as Castiel stiffened beside him. "What do you mean?" Michael stepped closer to the bed, his eyes were bright with rage.

"Now we have two angelic armies. The side that are obeying me, and the side that were loyal to Zachariah. A rogue angel army without a leader is a great threat." Dean wasn't following. What did they need to know this for? "I'm must ask one more thing of you and your family Dean."

Silence. "I must ask for your assistance in destroying what's left of Zachariah's forces." Dean sighed. "And how am I supposed to do that?" Michael smiled, there was something wrong in it. Like he was fighting a grimace as he smiled.

"With the swords that were born of Castiel's grace." Dean heard Castiel's sharp intake of breath and beneath the covers he held the former angels hand. "You can't ask him too…" "We'll do it." Castiel's reply cut off Dean's denial.

"What?" Dean was facing Castiel, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open. "We have to stop his followers or others like me could be hurt." Dean couldn't understand how Castiel could feel like that after all that had happened, but he respected his decision. "Okay, if Cas says he'll do it I will too."

Michael smiled a tiny smile at them. "Thank you both." A pause, his eyes we closed so Dean assumed he was receiving divine prophecy or some other bullshit. "I shall return in a few days with your weapons and more knowledge."

Dean didn't move or speak but he felt Castiel nod. Soon they were alone again, the atmosphere of their room so thick you could cut it with a knife. "Dean, I want to do this." Dean nodded. "I know." More silence. "I'm not sure that I can." Disbelief. "Then why…" A smile. "I have to Dean. I can never deny my father what he asks.:

This time anger. They were using Castiel, still. He knew Castiel would not tell him no, and Dean would not tell Cas no. They would all pay. Good angels or not, Dean was going to make them suffer. Something from earlier that night floated to his mind. Damn, that was one more promise he had to keep. And it just got a hell of a lot harder to do.

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Okay, so that's it. I hope to have the sequel up soon, but my internet access it a little less than reliable right now. Sorry. But I promise I'll have it up in less than two weeks. Hopefully the first two chapters atleast. I really hope you guys enjoyed the story. I'd love to hear any guesses about what's going to happen next.


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